


Fifty shades of gold.

by Ohgingersnap



Series: 50 SHADES OF MALEC. [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, BDSM, Better Than Fifty Shades of Grey, Bottom Alec Lightwood, CEO Magnus Bane, College Student Alec Lightwood, Daddy Energy, Dom/sub Undertones, First Meetings, Flirting, Gay Alec Lightwood, Insecure Alec Lightwood, Inspired by Fifty Shades of Grey, M/M, Magnus Bane is a Little Shit, Not Beta Read, Pansexual Character, Protective Magnus Bane, Rewrite, Sugar Daddy, Top Magnus Bane, pansexual magnus bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28627275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohgingersnap/pseuds/Ohgingersnap
Summary: I don't even like Fifty shades of grey what am I doing?---------------------------------------------"Mr. Wayland." He extends a long black tipped hand to me once I'm upright. "I'm Magnus Bane. Are you alright? Would you like to sit?"So young - and attractive, very attractive. He's tall, just a hare shorter than me, dressed in a deep velvet black suit that seemed to have a floral patterned etched into the material, burgundy colored shirt that was partly unbuttoned to reveal a golden chest, and a string of necklaces that covered the gaps in which the shirt did not. He had perfectly groomed dark brown hair and intense, golden brown eyes that regard me with interest. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.------------------------Or the rewrite of the first chapter of fifty shades of grey no one asked for.--------------------------------------------------------------"Alec," he says as a farewell."Magnus," I reply. And mercifully, the doors close.--Fiffty shades but make it malec?
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: 50 SHADES OF MALEC. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099022
Comments: 18
Kudos: 119





	Fifty shades of gold.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp 2021 just started and I am already rewriting series I don't like.
> 
> But hey this is my first time dipping my toes into this fandom and I'm actually quite excited.
> 
> So please take this piece as an offering to join your fandom.
> 
> Anyway this was written all by me, no bete, Just me, some tunes and way too many chips.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy <3

I glare in frustration at the mirrored image of myself. Damn my hair and damn Jonathan Wayland for being ill and subjecting me to this entire ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission.

_ I will not straighten it. _

_ I will not straighten it. _

_ I , Alec lightwood will NOT straighten my hair. _

I tell myself repeatedly, as I attempt, once more, to bring the wild locks under control. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at the tan, onyx-haired man who stares back at me with big blue eyes and give up. My only option is to run my fingers through it and hope that I look semi presentable.

Jace, my brother and my roommate; who is never sick might I add, decided that today out of all days was the day he would succumb to the flu.

Therefore, he cannot attend the interview he'd arranged to do, with some hot shot tycoon I've never heard of, for the student newspaper. So I have been gracefully volunteered;thrown into the deep end of the pool without time to even change my clothes.

I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish, and I'm supposed to be working this afternoon, but no - today I have to drive a hundred and sixty-five miles to downtown New york in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Bane Enterprises. As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of our University, his time is extraordinarily precious - much more precious than mine - but he has granted Jace an interview. A real coup, he tells me. Damn his extra-curricular activities, why couldn’t he have kept up football like we all thought he would?

Jace, that blonde haired asshole, is huddled on the couch in the living room.

"Alec, I'm sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we'll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can't blow this off. Please," Jace begs me in a raspy voice. How does he do it? Even sick he looks attractive and put together, golden blonde hair in place and blue-brown eyes bright, although now red-rimmed and runny. I ignore the pang of unwelcome sympathy.

"Jace, It’s fine I already said i'll go. You should get back to your room, best not to get the rest of the house full of flu germs. Do you want some Nyquil-Tylenol or something like that?" I said knowing that despite being sick as a dog jace will still say that he's fine.

"No that ok Alec you have done enough.” The blonde haired male says as he sniffs rather loudly after.

I roll my eyes back into my head and Jace ignores me and insteads decides to continue to speak as if by denying medicine he hasn't chosen death.

“Here are the questions and my mini-disc recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I'll transcribe it all."

"I know nothing about him," I murmur, trying and failing to suppress my rising panic.

"The questions will see you through Alec. You'll do great. You're good at this stuff anyway.”

“Not talking to people I’m not. What if I end up a stuttering mess? Or-”

Now it was Jace's turn to roll his eyes,

“ You'll be fine Alec, now Go. It's a long drive. I don't want you to be late."

"Okay, fine, I'm going. Get back to bed. I made you some soup to heat up later." I stare at him fondly. Only for you, Jace, would I do this.

"I will. Good luck. And thanks Alec - as usual, you're my lifesaver."

“I’ll remember you said that when I bomb this interview.”

Jace only scuffed in reply.

Gathering my satchel, I smile wryly at him, then head out the door to the car. I cannot believe I have let Jace talk me into this. But then Jace can talk anyone into anything, his good with people like that.

He'll make an exceptional journalist. He's articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative, beautiful - and he's my dearest, dearest friend.

The roads are clear as I set off. It's early, and I don't have to be downtown until two this afternoon. Fortunately, Jace's lent me his sporty Mercedes CLK. I'm not sure Harold, my old camry, would make the journey in time. Oh, the Merc is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal.

My destination is the headquarters of Mr. Bane's global enterprise. It's a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect's utilitarian fantasy, with Bane House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors. It's a quarter to two when I arrive, greatly relieved that I'm not late as I walk into the enormous - and frankly surprising - Brick exposed, floral, and black wooded lobby.

Behind the solid black wooden desk, a very attractive, groomed, Red Headed young woman smiles pleasantly at me. She's wearing the sharpest black suit jacket and red shirt I have ever seen. She looks immaculate.

"I'm here to see Mr. Bane. Alec Lightwood for Jonathan Wayland."

"Excuse me one moment, Mr. Lightwood." She arches her eyebrow slightly as I stand self-consciously before her. I am beginning to wish I'd borrowed one of Jace's formal blazers rather than wear my old black jacket. I have made an effort and worn my one and only pair of dress pants, my black oxfords and a black sweater.

For me, this is dressy, for her however, I'm sure I look like any old hobo that just jumped right off the street corner.

_ This is the last time I let Jace talk me into something like this. SIck or not this is an embarrassment to the lightwood name. _

"Mr. Wayland is expected. Please sign in here, Mr. Lightwood. You'll want the last elevator on the right, press for the twentieth floor." She smiles kindly at me, amused no doubt, as I sign in.

She hands me a security pass that has VISITOR very firmly stamped on the front. I can't help but to grimace. Surely it's obvious that I'm just visiting. I don't fit in here at all, not with all the vivid variety of color against my all black ensemble.

Nothing changes, I inwardly sigh. Thanking her, I walk over to the bank of elevators past the two security men who are both far more smartly dressed than I am in their well-cut black suits.

The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open, and I'm in another large lobby - again exposed brick, Vintage rug covered floors, and blackwood. I'm confronted by another desk of black and another young attractive woman dressed impeccably in black and red who rises to greet me.

"Mr. Lightwood, could you wait here, please?" She points to a seated area of black leather chairs.

Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass-walled meeting room with an equally spacious wooden table and at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that, there is a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the New york skyline that looks out through the city . It's a stunning vista, and I'm momentarily paralyzed by the view.

I sit down, fish the questions from my satchel, and go through them, inwardly curs-ing Jace for not providing me with a brief biography. I know nothing about this man I'm about to interview. He could be ninety or he could be thirty five. The uncertainty is galling, and my nerves resurface, making me fidget. I've never been comfortable with one-on-one interviews, preferring the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit inconspicuously at the back of the room. 

To be honest, I prefer my own company, working out to classic rock and not sitting twitching nervously in a vintage infested skyscraper.

I roll my eyes at myself. Get a grip, Lightwood. Judging from the building, which is over the top Eccentric and colorful, what with it’s string tethered rugs, old school chandlers and vases that look like they date back to the ming dynasty; I guess Bane is either in his eighties or a huge fan of vintage interior design: and possibly a model just like everyone else in this building.

Another elegant, flawlessly dressed young person; a man this time comes out of a large door to the right. What is it with all the immaculate young people? It's like a damn catwalk in here. Taking a deep breath, I stand up. "Mr. Lightwood?" the tanned male asks.

"Yes," I croak, and clear my throat. "Yes." There, that sounded more confident.

"Mr. Bane will see you in a moment. May I take your jacket?"

"Oh please." I struggle to fling my long limbs out of the dusty black material, before handing over the waded garment to the other male.

"Have you been offered any refreshment?" The hispanic male asks with a tight lipped smile and barely hidden disgust in his eyes as he awkwardly holds the crumbled jacket.

"Um - no." Oh dear, is girl Number two in trouble?

The dark haired male frowns and eyes the young woman at the desk.

"Would you like tea, coffee, water?" he asks, turning his attention back to me.

"A glass of water. Thank you," I murmur.

"Maia, please fetch Mr. Lightwood a glass of water." His voice is stern. Maia scoots up immediately and scurries to a door on the other side of the foyer.

"My apologies, Mr. Lightwood, Maia is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Bane will be another five minutes."

Maia returns with a glass of iced water.

"Here you go, Mr. Lightwood."

"Thank you."

The caramel skinned male marches over to the large desk, his shoes making little to no sound as he makes his way across the plush rug infested floor. He sits down; my jacket still awkwardly in hand before they both continue with their work.

Perhaps Mr. Bane insists on all his employees being models. I'm wondering idly if that's legal, when the office door opens and a tall, elegantly dressed, attractive African-American man with short shaved hair exits.

_ I have definitely worn the wrong clothes.  _ I think to myself as I subsciously pull at the fabric of my too short dress shirt.

The well dressed male turns and says through the door. "Jade wolf, this weekend, Bane."

I don't hear the reply. He turns, sees me, and smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. Maia has jumped up and called the elevator. She seems to excel at jumping from her seat. She's more nervous than me!

Though the way she smiles at the man makes it seem like they know each other somehow.

"Good afternoon everyone," he says as he departs through the sliding door.

"Mr. Bane will see you now, Mr. Lightwood. Do go through," The smoky eyed male says.

I stand rather shakily trying to suppress my nerves. Gathering up my satchel, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.

"You don't need to knock - just go in." He smiles kindly, but his eyes seem to remain steel cold.

I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet, and falling head first into the office.

_ Shit _ \- me and my two left feet! I am on my hands and knees in the doorway to Mr. Bane's office, and gentle hands are around me helping me to stand. I am so embarrassed, damn my clumsiness. I have to steel myself to glance up. 

Holy - _ Ok he's not pushing eighties. _

"Mr. Wayland." He extends a long black tipped hand to me once I'm upright. "I'm Magnus Bane. Are you alright? Would you like to sit?"

So young - and attractive,  _ very attractive. _ He's tall, just a hare shorter than me, dressed in a deep velvet black suit that seemed to have a floral patterned etched into the material, burgundy colored shirt that was partly unbuttoned to reveal a golden chest, and a string of necklaces that covered the gaps in which the shirt did not. He had perfectly groomed dark brown hair and intense, golden brown eyes that regard me with intrest. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.

"Um. Actually - " I mutter. If this guy is over thirty then I'm a fucking trash can. In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake. As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static. I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate.

"Mr. Wayland is indisposed, so he sent me. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Bane."

"And you are?" His voice is warm, possibly amused, but it's difficult to tell from his impassive expression. He looks mildly interested, but above all, polite.

"Alec Lightwood. I'm studying English Literature with Jace, um... Jonathan...um... Mr. Wayland at Nyu."

"I see," he says simply. I think I see the ghost of a smile in his expression, but I'm not sure. "Would you like to sit?" He waves me toward a black leather L-shaped couch with wooden legs.

His office is way too big for just one man. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there's a huge vintage inspired dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is in a wild variety of colors - ceiling, floors, and walls except, on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small charcoal drawings hang, thirty-six of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite - a series of mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they look like photographs. Displayed together, they are breathtaking.

"A local artist. Fray," says Bane when he catches my gaze.

"They're lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary," I murmur, distracted both by him and the drawings. He cocks his head to one side and regards me intently.

"I couldn't agree more, Mr. Lightwood," he replies, his voice soft and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing.

Apart from the drawings, the rest of the office is dark, neat, and eccentric. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the Angel who sinks gracefully into one of the black leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve Jace's questions from my satchel. Next, I set up the mini-disc recorder and am all fingers and thumbs, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of me. Mr. Bane says nothing, waiting patiently - I hope - as I become increasingly embarrassed and flustered. When I pluck up the courage to look at him, he's watching me, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other cupping his chin and trailing his long index finger across his lips.  _ Oh my gosh is that lip gloss, my heart stutters at the thought. _ I think he's trying to suppress a smile.

"Sorry," I stutter. "I'm not used to this."

"Take all the time you need, Mr. Lightwood," he says.

"Do you mind if I record your answers?"

"After you've taken so much trouble to set up the recorder? Of course not that's totally unacceptable"

I pinken, a soft laugh escaping from my chapped lips as the femimine man across from me hides another smile behind his well groomed black nails. He's teasing me, _ I hope. _

I blink at him, unsure what to say, and I think he takes pity on me because he relents. “Don't worry, I don't mind."

"Did Jace, I mean, Mr. Wayland, explain what the interview was for?"

"Yes. To appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year's graduation ceremony."

Oh! This is news to me, and I'm temporarily pre-occupied by the thought that someone not much older than me - okay, maybe six years or so, and okay, mega successful, but still - is going to present me with my degree. I frown, dragging my wayward attention back to the task at hand.

"Good," I swallow nervously. "I have some questions, Mr. Bane." I smooth a string back into the hem of my shirt.

"I thought you might," he says, deadpan but his tone has a soft edge to it. He's laughing at me. My cheeks heat at the realization, and I sit up and square my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating. Pressing the start button on the recorder, I try to look professional.

_ Key word try. _

"You're very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?" I glance up at him. His smile is rueful, but he looks vaguely disappointed.

"Business is all about people, Mr. Lightwood, and I'm very good at judging people. I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn't, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team, and I reward them well." He pauses and fixes me with his golden stare. "My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work very hard to do that. I have a natural gut instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and good people. The bottom line is, it's always down to good people."

"Maybe you're just lucky." This isn't on Jace's list - but he's so arrogant. His eyes flare momentarily in surprise.

"I don't subscribe to luck or chance, Mr. Lightwood. The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing their energies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said 'the growth and develop-ment of people is the highest calling of leadership.'"

"You sound like a control freak." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them."Oh, I exercise control in all things, Mr. Lightwood," he says without a trace of humor in his smile. I look at him, and he holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His overwhelming good-looks? Maybe the way his eyes blaze at me or the way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip. I wish he'd stop doing that.

"Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things," he continues, his voice soft.

"Do you feel that you have immense power?" Control Freak.

"I employ over forty thousand people, Mr. Lightwood. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility - power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so."

My mouth drops open. I am staggered by his lack of humility, when I swear I saw some personality inside of him just mere moments ago.

"Don't you have a board to answer to?" I ask, disgusted.

"I own my company. I don't have to answer to a board." He raises a well plucked eyebrow at me.

I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, he's so arrogant. I change tack.

"And do you have any interests outside your work?"

"I have varied interests, Mr. Lightwood." A ghost of a smile touches his lips. "Very varied." And for some reason, I'm confounded and heated by his steady gaze. His eyes are alight with some wicked thought.

"But if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?"

"Chill out?" He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. He really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.

"Well, to 'chill out' as you put it - I sail, I fly, I go to this small chinese dinner on the outskirts of the city and I indulge in various physical pursuits."

_ Chinese? Two seconds ago he was boasting about his control over people and now he says he eats chinese? Is that what the Jade wolf is?  _ I'll have to add that to my list of things to research later.

He shifts in his chair. "I'm a very wealthy man, Mr. Lightwood, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies."

I glance quickly at Jace's questions, wanting to get off this subject.

"You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?" I ask. Why does he make me so uncomfortable? Ye so hot at the same time.

"I like to build things. I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?"

"That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts."

His mouth quirks up, and he stares appraisingly at me.

"Possibly. Though there are people who'd say I don't have a heart."

"Why would they say that?"

"Because they know me well." His lip curls in a wry smile, all the soft angels from before gone.

"Would your friends say you're easy to get to know?" And I regret the question as soon as I say it. It's not on Jace's list.

"I'm a very private person, Mr. Lightwood. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don't often give interviews," he trails off, his left hand coming up to carras the air as he talks.

"Why did you agree to do this one?"

"Because I'm a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn't get Mr. Wayland off my back. He badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity."

I know how tenacious Jace can be. That's why I'm sitting here squirming uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.

"You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?"

"We can't eat money, Mr. Lightwood, and there are too many people on this planet who don't have enough to eat."

"That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the world's poor?"

He shrugs, a light flourish of his shoulders, very non-committal.

"It's shrewd business," he murmurs, though I think he's being disingenuous. It doesn't make sense - feeding the world's poor. I can't see the financial benefits of this, only the virtue of the ideal. I glance at the next question, confused by his attitude.

"Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?"

"I don't have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle - Carnegie's: 'A man who acquires the ability to take full possession of his own mind may take possession of anything else to which he is justly entitled.' I'm very singular, driven. I like control - of myself and those around me."

"So you want to possess things?" You are a control freak.

"I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do."

"You sound like the ultimate consumer."

"I am." He smiles, but the smile doesn't touch his black lined eyes. Again this is at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, so I can't help thinking that we're talking about something else, but I'm absolutely mystified as to what it is. I swallow hard. The temperature in the room is rising or maybe it's just me. I just want this interview to be over. Surely Jace has enough material now. I glance at the next question.

"You were adopted. How far do you think that's shaped the way you are?" Oh, this is personal. I stare at him, hoping he's not offended. His brow furrows.

"I have no way of knowing."

My interest is piqued.

"How old were you when you were adopted?"

"That's a matter of public record, Mr. Lightwood." His tone is stern. I flush, again.  _ Shit. _

Yes of course - if I'd known I was doing this interview, I would have done some research.

I move on swiftly.

"You've had to sacrifice a family life for your work."

"That's not a question." He's terse.

"Sorry." I squirm, and he's made me feel like an errant child. I try again. "Have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?"

"I have a family. I have a few close friends that I have taken under my wing and treat like my own children. I am however not interested in extending my family beyond that."

"Are you gay, Mr. Bane?"

He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. _ Shit. _ Why didn't I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I'm just reading the questions?

Damn Jace and his curiosity!

"I don't think my private life has that much of an impact on my career. But if you must know, I am certainly not straight, that of which is also public record Alec " He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does not look pleased.

I feel flushed and look down to my lap where I have the stack of notes sitting and looking back up at me innocently. 

_ Take a deep breath Alec, now is not the time for a gay panic. _

"I’m so sorry. It's um... written here in the notes, Jace- Uh Mr. Jonathan must have uh-." I clear my throat,It's the first time he's said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated, and my cheeks are heating up again. Nervously, I shift my long legs one over the other.

He cocks his head to one side, his golden eyes studying me.

"These aren't your own questions?"

The blood drains from my head.  _ Oh no. _

"Err... no. My brother - Mr. Wayland - he compiled the questions."

"Are you colleagues on the student paper?" Oh shit. I have nothing to do with the student paper. It's her extra-curricular activity, not mine. My face is aflame.

"No. he's my roommate."

He rubs a tanned hand over his chin in quiet deliberation, his golden eyes appraising me.

"Did you volunteer to do this interview?" he asks, his voice gentle but deadly.

Hang on, who's supposed to be interviewing whom? His eyes burn into me, and I'm compelled to answer with the truth, almost like i'm under his spell.

"I was drafted. He's not well." My voice is weak and apologetic.

"That explains a great deal."

There's a knock at the door, and Woman number two enters.

"Mr. Bane, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes."

"We're not finished here, Maia. Please cancel my next meeting."

Maia hesitates, gaping at him. She's appears lost. He turns his head slowly to face her and raises his eyebrows. She flushes bright pink.  _ Oh good. It's not just me. _

"Very well, Mr. Bane," she mutters, then exits. He frowns, and turns his attention back to me.

"Where were we, Mr. Lightwood?"

Oh, we're back to 'Mr. Lightwood' now.

"Please don't let me keep you from anything."

"I want to know about you. I think that's only fair." His golden eyes are alight with curiosity. Double shit. Where's he going with this? He places his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers in front of his very shiny mouth. His mouth is very... distracting. I swallow.

"There's not much to know," I say, flushing again.

"What are your plans after you graduate?"

I shrug, thrown by his interest. Move out of our family home but stay in new york with Jace, find an apartment big enough but also cheap enough for two grown men and find a job. I haven't really thought beyond my finals.

"I haven't made any plans, Mr. Bane. I just need to get through my final exams."

Which I should be studying for now rather than sitting in your palatial, swanky, ecentric office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze.

"We run an excellent internship program here," he says quietly. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. __

_ Is he offering me a job? _

"Oh, ok well I'll bear that in mind," I murmur, completely confounded. "Though I'm not sure I'd fit in here." Oh no. I'm musing out loud again.

_ Get a grip Alec! _

"Why do you say that?" He cocks his head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on his painted lips.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I'm uncoordinated, scruffy, and I'm nowhere near a model.

"Not to me," he murmurs. His gaze is intense, all humor gone, and strange muscles deep in my belly clench suddenly. I tare my eyes away from his scrutiny and stare blindly down at my knotted fingers. What's going on? I have to go - now. I lean forward to retrieve the recorder.

"Would you like me to show you around?" he asks suddenly.

"I'm sure you're far too busy, Mr. Bane, and I do have a long drive ahead of me, so I must really get going."

"You're driving back to Nyu?" He sounds surprised, anxious even. He glances out of the window. It's begun to rain. "Well, you'd better drive carefully." His tone is stern, authoritative.  _ Why does he care? _

"Did you get everything you need?" he adds.

"Yes sir," I reply, packing the recorder into my satchel, and trying to shake the anxiety out of my belly. His eyes narrow, speculatively.

"Thank you for the interview, Mr. Bane."

"The pleasure's been all mine," he says, polite as ever, but if I looked close enough I could swear there was a little bit of heat behind his eyes.

As I rise, he stands and holds out his sun kissed hand.

"Until we meet again, Mr. Lightwood." And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I'm not sure which. A frown pulls at my lips

.  _ When will we ever meet again. _

I shake his hand once more, astounded that that odd current between us is still there. It must be my nerves.

"Mr. Bane." I nod at him. Moving with flourishing grace to the door, he opens it wide.

"Just ensuring you make it through the door, Mr. Lightwood." He gives me a small smile.

Obviously, he's referring to my earlier less-than-elegant entry into his office. I flush once again.

"That's very considerate, Mr. Bane," I snap, and his smile widens, toothy and dangerous.

_ I'm glad you find me entertaining _ , I glower inwardly, walking into the foyer. I'm surprised when he follows me out. Maia and raphael both look up, equally surprised.

"Did you have a coat?" Bane asks.

"Yes." Maia leaps up and retrieves my jacket, which Bane takes from her before she can hand it to me. He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on.

Bane places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting - awkwardly on my part, coolly self-possessed on his.

The doors open, and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here.

When I turn to look at him, he's leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very good-looking. It's distracting. His burning golden eyes gaze at me.

"Alec," he says as a farewell.

"Magnus," I reply. And mercifully, the doors close.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you all think?
> 
> Please leave comments and kudos it feeds me and I'm always hungry.
> 
> leave a comment and let me know if you would want to see further chapters of this book rewritten to fit Alec and Magnus.
> 
> Also If I did that the book would be very VERY different so please keep that in mind.
> 
> Thanks for reading, till next time <3
> 
> Update:  
> Due to all the positive reactions that have come from this rewrite I have decided to rewrite the entire book! I will be doing this in one chapter sections like I posted this one so be on the lookout for that!!! ❤
> 
> I am going to change a lot about the book and possibly even add some daddy kink elements so if u don't like that then that's a warning now.
> 
> Anyway thank you so much for the overwhelming positive response ☺


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